


The Black Cat

by HostisHumaniGeneris



Category: DC Animated Universe (Timmverse)
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, Crime Scenes, Gen, Party, Superheroes, Trick or Treat: Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 00:36:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16051829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/pseuds/HostisHumaniGeneris
Summary: Selina hits a party of Gotham City's richest on Halloween night; the perfect opportunity to nick from some of the city's elite while they have no idea the person in costume next to them is a criminal.  Unfortunately, old friends show up to mess with her business.





	The Black Cat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MiraMira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraMira/gifts).



Selina wove between revelers, head on a swivel as she appraised the situation.  Off-duty GCPD cops were making some extra cash serving as security for the party, but slipping from under their noses was hardly a difficult thing for her to do. 

Honestly, looting an upscale Halloween night party was in general would normally have been beneath her, but it was her first time back in town since the unpleasantness with the Thomas Blake and the cult… the very lucrative unpleasantness, granted.  She’d been living the high life abroad, but something about the city just drew her back.  She didn’t _need_ to be back in Gotham, picking pockets, at least financially speaking.  But she couldn’t stay away for too long.

As she skirted the edge of the crowd near one of the speakers, she’d consider herself blessed if she never had to hear _Thriller_ or _Monster Mash_ again.  Some muscly college-age kid stood in her path, dressed in a terrible Creeper costume… probably to show off his abs.  She bobbed her head as he talked only long enough to suss out where he was hiding his wallet and relieve him of it.  The best thing about Halloween, she thought, was just the fact that you could literally traipse around town in your _work clothes_ and nobody’d be the wiser.

She’d gotten a few comments about how her outfit looked good, how she looked good in that outfit, and how her costume was ‘totally inaccurate’.  That almost hurt—every piece of her costume from her cowl to her bullwhip was completely authentic.  The only deviation was a purse she’d _borrowed_ from a debutante who had a little too much hard cider… she needed something to carry all the cash she was earning.

It wasn’t much of a challenge, and she usually went after higher-ticket items, but being back in Gotham helping the idle rich dispose of their disposable income made her very, very nostalgic.  It felt like the good old days, back before all the bridges with Bruce were burned…

Oh crap.

She locked up when the crowd parted briefly and she saw him.  He was standing out like a sore thumb.  It wasn’t just that his Batman costume was _that good_ , plenty of obsessives went the extra mile to show off at parties like this… Hell, there was a guy doing a very passable Killer Croc, except he was maybe a head shorter than the real deal.  It was that he was a guy at a party stoically surveying the scene.  She recognized the square chin and the eyes.

The crowd closed ranks again when the music started up.  _Hey There Little Red Riding Hood_.  Part of her wanted to go up to him, and try to… do _something_ to patch things up.  That part quickly fell to the part that wanted to challenge him to chase her, for old times’ sake.

The crowd parted again, and he wasn’t there.  She inhaled sharply.  There was no way he saw her, and even if he did, he’d just assume…

“Hello Selina.” He said, barely audible over.  She wheeled around to see him behind her.  Damn, usually he had trouble doing that… she was out of practice for the big leagues.  “I heard you were back in town.”

“Bruce.” There wasn’t any risk in saying his name.  Nobody was listening, everyone wrapped up in their own little amusements.  “Aren’t you going to ask why I’m here.”

“You stole wallets off of eleven guests.”  He said, deadpan.  “If you set down that purse and leave now, we won’t be having a conversation down at Gotham Central.”

It was actually seventeen wallets, but hey, if he didn’t notice six, that was a minor victory.  But if he was just going to let her go, either he still was carrying a torch for her, or he had more important things to do.  “What are you here for?”

“Joker escaped from Arkham Asylum earlier in the week…”

“So nothing’s changed in my absence?” Selina interrupted, coy smile on her face.

“I think he intends to kill every one here.” Bruce always did have a way of killing the mood.  “He told an Arkham Guard that he had a trick planned for all of Gotham.  And this is the biggests, most public party he could be talking about.”

“So… he’s probably here.” Selina said.  Bruce narrowed his eyes, which she took as an affirmative.  “He’s probably going to be dressed as…”

“Himself.” Bruce nodded, cutting her off.  “The problem is, there’s too many Jokers here.”

Selina never new why it was so popular to dress as the clown for Halloween, but that was true.  There were too many possible Jokers. She dropped her purse to the ground and got ready to leave.  Until she decided to flit around and see the Jokers themselves.  She’d already stolen from some, and so began to stalk the others.

One with greasepaint over his mustache was fifty-two per his driver’s license and an organ donor.  The one with a receding hairline and fairly deadpan voice was right out, but she pocketed fifty off of him.  The one in the Hawaiian shirt was a dud.  Then she heard a distinctive laugh, muffled.  She turned and saw another Joker; homeless-looking, with an unkempt wig of long hair, and with some make-up added to look like he had mouth scars.

When she reached into his pocket and came back with a detonator, she knew she had her man.  Unfortunately, he dipped his hand his hand into the pocket of the coat and came up empty, whipped around, and locked eyes with her.  From his other pocket he drew a revolver.  “I thought I saw a…”

Batman pounced on him sending the gun skittering across the floor.  Problem solved, until a woman in a sexy nurse... sexy clown... sexy nurse-clown costume that Selina had overlooked rushed forward, mallet raised overhead.  The crack of a whip, and the hammer fell to the ground, Harley yelping and clutching her hand. Before she could react, Selina moved in and nailed her with a roundhouse kick, sending her sprawling.

Bruce could handle this, Selina thought, as he landed an uppercut to the Joker's chin that sent him flying into a set of plastic skeletons. The crowd began to run in panic upon realizing the one man in a Joker costume was the real deal and there was probably an imminent danger to the lives.  In the confusion, while Batman proceeded in his efforts to rehabilitate the Clown Prince of Crime via fist to jaw and Harley mumbled something about a 'puddy tat' in an obviously punch-drunk state, Selina leapt to a table, then to a big pile of plastic jack-o-lanterns, vaulted up a cross-beam, and climbed out the skylight.

The night was still young, she mused.  And she had plenty more trick-or-treating to do.


End file.
